


hearts of stone

by janie_tangerine



Category: Wild Cards - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen, LGBTQ Themes, Moral Dilemmas, Post-Canon, Speculation, accidental adoptions galore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 12:51:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16974912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: “Too bad she wasn’t fifteen in ’96, right?”Flint doesn’t even try to tell him off. He doesn’t have the heart nor the force of will, especially because he knows that Turing is not wrong, as much as Queen and country might have been worth that one sacrifice.“Did she tell you that she wants to work for us?”“I should hope you’re not considering it, Flint.” Turing’s voice goes lower, colder, and you could never guess he’s… technically a computer now, for how human it sounds.“No,” he immediately says. “Of course not. She’s thinks she’s ready but she’s most definitely not. That is not happening.”“Good to hear it,” Turing says, sounding relieved. “I see that we’re not completely beyond decency, yet.” He shakes his head, then moves to sit in front of Flint. “And what do you think we should do with her, then?”





	hearts of stone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moontyger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moontyger/gifts).



> My dearest giftee, I ALSO absolutely wanted to know what happened with Kerry after her story ended so I might have gone with _that_ prompt...... aaaand this happened. I don't even know what happened but if you were hoping for Flint being one hundred percent in conflict about everything you've come to the right place. ( ~~Poor Flint. I <3ed Flint he's such a great character.~~) Also there's more Alan Turing than I had predicted but I loved that they kept him alive as a character in the books so it might have showed, ops. Hopefully everyone is in character enough and you enjoy it, happy yuletide! <3
> 
> Obligatory disclaimers: nothing here belongs to me and the title is from Bruce Springsteen.

 

_Dear Captain Flint,_

_I am an ace. I need your help. I can turn people to stone and I have nowhere to go. I am staying at the Red Lion Hotel in Ascot for the next two nights under the name of Lisa Buckingham. My real name is Stonemaiden_.

 

Maybe not her _real_ name, Flint thinks as he reads the note for the third time.

He looks up at the bobby who brought it for him.

“ _Who brought this, again_?”

The man shrugs minutely. “A young girl,” he says. “Couldn’t’ve been older than seventeen, but I wouldn’t swear on that. She had gloves on even if it was a warm day. She said she knew we’d never let her near you so she wouldn’t even try to ask and left, so I figured there’d be no harm in giving you this.”

Flint nods. “ _Very well_ ,” he answers, “ _thank you. You can go back to your post._ ”

The man nods and promptly leaves.

Flint turns the note in between his fingers. It’s written on common paper, most likely grabbed from a kitchen note block, and written with a standard blue pen in clear penmanship.

He supposes that he story does hold up — if this girl can turn people into stone and brought the note herself while wearing gloves, there’s no reason to assume that she’s not telling the truth. There is no indication of how old might the girl _actually_ be, but if the bobby was right and she’s not even eighteen, she must be fairly resourceful to be staying somewhere under a false name, and she must have some money to her name. On the other side… if she has nowhere to go, does that mean her family might have sent her away? With a power like _that_ , he supposes it’s a possibility.

He taps his fingertips against his leg.

On one side, it’s a _minor_ writing this, which means that _he_ is certainly not the best choice to help her. On the other, he has a feeling that anyone choosing _Stonemaiden_ for an ace name might not really find it useful to walk inside the local social services office.

He should go back to London before tomorrow evening — the last horse race is in the afternoon and he certainly would _not_ leave the Queen on her way back to Buckingham Palace.

On the other hand, it’s not that far a ride. If the girl stays one day longer, he could go to London, come back and at least talk to her, and if she doesn’t have enough money for another night in the hotel, certainly the Silver Helix could pay for it.

He clears his throat and calls over one of the men in the security detail.

“ _I need you do phone the Red Lion Hotel_ ,” Flint tells him, “ _ask if there is a Lisa Buckingham sleeping there, and if the answer is yes, they should tell her to stay for one more night_.”

“Understood,” the man says. “What if she’s not there?”

Flint shrugs. “ _Then it was a joke in very poor taste_.” He has a feeling it’s _not_ , though, and he’s confirmed that when the man comes back fifteen minutes later informing him that yes, someone with that name is currently booking a room in that hotel, and yes, she apparently agreed to stay another night.

Good. He’ll worry about the Queen for now, and tomorrow he can handle this _Stonemaiden_.

——

Two days later, he’s sitting inside one of the Silver Helix’s safe houses in Ascot, waiting for someone to drive the girl here. He hadn’t thought it prudent to go to the hotel himself, especially given that he’s hardly the least noticeable person, and if the girl is still trying to pass for unaffected… there’s no point in barging there in person.

At least the place should look welcoming enough — it has a fireplace, and he had one of the maids prepare some tea if his guest wants it, _he_ certainly cannot indulge in it as much as he misses drinking and eating what… people who aren’t knaves drink and eat, but it’s been half a century and he cannot waste time over those regrets.

He snaps his fingers, leaning down and rekindling the fire — it’s chilly today, and while he doesn’t really feel the difference between cold and hot anymore, maybe _she_ will.

He doesn’t have to wait long — an attendant opens the door a few minutes later.

“Grand Marshal,” he says, “she’s here.”

“ _Let her in_ ,” Flint says, and a moment later a girl walks inside the room.

She matches the description he was given before — she’s not extremely tall and she’s wearing a hoodie covering her face, and she wears gloves even if her hands are stuck inside her pockets. He sees her take a deep breath before the door closes and she moves the hoodie down, looking straight at him.

Well, bloody hell. _Seventeen_ was entirely too generous — she looks more on the side of fourteen, which means that this became even more complicated, because one thing is a minor about to become of age, another is someone who won’t for years.

Still, he should just hear her out first, and given that she’s staring at him in awe and is obviously too starstruck to talk, he should do it himself.

“ _Stonemaiden, I suppose_?” He asks.

“Yes, sir,” she replies, barely audible. “That — that’d be me.”

“ _Please, sit_ ,” he tells her, motioning towards the other chair in front of his. “ _Have some tea, if you would like_.”

“Thank you,” she replies respectfully as she sits and reaches for one of the cups. Her fingers are trembling under her gloves.

She takes a sip, then two, then she sets the cup on her legs and looks up at him again from under unruly black hair.

“I guess you’ve got my note then?” She asks, clearing her throat.

“ _Yes_ ,” he confirms. “ _And I would quite like to know how, exactly, you ended up here. I imagine your real name is not Stonemaiden?_ ”

“No,” she shakes her head. “It’s Kerry. Kerenza Tremaine, if you like. But — I dunno if it’d be a good idea goin’ around sayin’ it was.”

“ _How so_?”

She sighs, then sips on her tea some more. “I — I _changed_ a few years ago,” she says. She sounds a lot surer now. “I turned the dog into granite.”

“ _The dog?_ ”

“My family has — we _had_ a farm. Us and my uncle. We had a dog, her name was Plum. After my card turned, I touched ‘er and she turned into a granite statue. That happens if I touch anythin’ livin’. Well, animals and _people_.”

“ _I see_ ,” he says. “ _Go on_.”

“My parents, they — convinced me to turn animals into stone so we could sell ‘em, passin’ them for sculptures. We had… financial problems. My uncle, ‘specially.”

He nods, crossing his hands over his legs. She looks impossibly small from his vantage point, but then again, most people are.

“Then — they tried to — well, not _tried_. They said there was this ace who worked for you who could — undo what _I_ do.”

At _that_ , Flint is sure that his face betrays the surprise he’s feeling. “ _And what would the name be?_ ” He asks.

“Pygmalion,” she says.

She’s obviously braced to hear that no such person is in Flint’s service. For a moment, he wishes he could tell her otherwise.

“No one with that name works for you, I guess,” she says before he can break the news.

“ _That’s correct_ ,” he says. “ _I imagine someone with that power might exist, of course, but if they do, they don’t work for the Silver Helix. I’m sorry._ ”

“That’s all right. I knew,” she shrugs. “Anyway, they said I should turn these people into statues because they’d _pay_ for it and then to be turned back by this — this Pygmalion. They made up a whole scam so that I’d think he existed, and I turned a few that showed up at our place, and then I found out that — I might’ve killed ‘em for real.” She breathes in and drinks some more tea. “My parents, after — they discussed makin’ me do that again. And lockin’ me in for good. I — I decided I couldn’t do that anymore.” She stops, drinks more tea. “The next part isn’t — well, that’s why I’ve got nowhere to go.”

“ _Go ahead_.”

“I — I turned them into stone. My parents. And my uncle, he was in on it. They taught me to drive a bit, an’ I knew you’d be here for the horse race, so I drove up here and gave the guard that note. And — I guess that’s it,” she says, and while until now she had sounded fairly steady, when she looks up at him he can see that she’s doubtful and most likely scared he’ll call the Yard on her or something of the kind. Which he technically _could_ do, but he can already see all the ways this could turn _bad_ , and she has… reached out for help, after all.

“ _I think_ ,” he says, “ _that would fall under self defense should anyone find out, but I don’t think that’s what you want to know. When you say you need my help, do you mean… that you want to work for me?_ ”

He can pinpoint the moment her eyes go slightly wider. _She’s young_ , he thinks. _Much too young, but was Double Helix that much older_?

Flint tries to resolutely not think about _that_.

She looks down at her hands. “Well, it’s not like I can do anythin’ else like this. I can’t touch people. Maybe I could touch _you_ since you’re already stone an’ all, but — I don’t wanna hurt anyone by accident. But — I’ve seen what happens when people who aren’t… aces, or knaves, or have no card, know. My parents, they — they weren’t really the same anymore after I turned. I don’t know if I can be ‘round… normal people, I guess. And maybe I _could_ work for you. At least I’d know what I’m gettin’ into.”

“ _How old are you_?” He asks. “ _Don’t lie_ ,” he says when he sees her looking to the left.

“… Fifteen,” she admits.

“ _And you turned when you were…_?”

“Twelve,” she replies. “I haven’t been in school or anythin’ since. They said it’d be dangerous.”

_Of course it would be._

He nods as she sips more of her tea.

This is a _problem_. She actually was thinking very straight, coming to him — after all, when Flint is the head of _the_ ace committee in England and you’re an ace who needs to keep their power under control, of course she’d go to _him_. But there’s the question of her _age_ — they certainly cannot employ a minor who also should have attended school all along

( _at least Double Helix did do that in the meantime_ , a traitorous voice reminds him)

and surely they do _not_ provide that service at the Silver Helix. Still, he cannot exactly let her go out in the world on her own, not with _that_ power that she cannot keep in check, nor without her family.

Also, there’s the matter of whether she could touch _him_ or not. Sure, he’s made of stone, too, but he’s also _alive_ , and she said she turned both people and animals. He’s not too sure he would like to try it, especially without knowing if anyone else could bring him back, and that seals it — if _he_ doesn’t like the idea, then she shouldn’t be going around England without supervision or check when she’s also obviously scared to death regardless of the front she wants to pull.

If anything, they _do_ have scientists at the Helix. Maybe they could do _something_ about it, even if he has no idea of what exactly.

Still, she’s young, she’s scared, and she’s _right_ — she has a bloody damn powerful ace and he shouldn’t wash his hands off her, especially when she did the smart thing rather than just leaving home and turning into stone whoever stood in her way.

“ _Where did you live_?”

“I — sorry?”

“ _If you turned your relatives into granite, someone should worry about that before the local authorities find out. If you tell me the location, I can call headquarters and find someone to — collect them, until we find a solution._ ”

“Would — would it be possible? To find a solution?”

“ _I don’t know,_ ” he admits. “ _Given how the wild card works, I am sure that_ someone _on this planet could reverse what you do, and believe me, I could have used them a long time ago. However, as I said before, they don’t work for me. But we could certainly keep an eye open if they show up on our radar. As far as_ you _are concerned, you should best come with me to London. I cannot make you_ work _for me as it is. You’re too young. But we can run some tests and see if we can find you a… momentary placement until we figure it out. Then, if you still would like to work for us in a couple of years, we can discuss it. But I can’t take teenagers in my service_.”

“I understand,” she says. “But I could be useful —”

“ _No_ ,” he says, remembering what Turing said when they discussed Matthews’s potential years ago. If he still was full human, he thinks his mouth would taste foul. Surely _then_ he could take teenagers in his service, couldn’t he? “ _We do have standards, young lady. Do you have any luggage_?”

“I — I brought it all with me, it’s in the entrance.”

“ _Very well. Tell me where to find your relatives and go get it while I call headquarters, then wait for me there. We’re riding back to London as soon as I’m finished here, and then we’ll see. Clear?_ ”

“Clear,” she nods, sounding entirely too grateful for such an offer. “Thank you, sir. I — I knew you could help.”

She finishes her tea, tells him her old address and runs out of the room, headed for the entrance.

Flint honestly, _honestly_ hopes that they can figure things out to everyone’s satisfaction before sacrificing to Queen and country someone who didn’t deserve it all over again, and then stands up to use the phone.

He _does_ have to tell Double Helix to take care of this matter quietly and quickly, before going back to base, and to warn Turing that they’re coming along.

Hopefully this won’t have to end up in a way that will make him lose what little sleep he still has at night.

——

They don’t speak on the ride back to London. The girl looks at her hands constantly and her eyes betray nothing — Flint doesn’t know if he should be impressed or worried, but most likely the answer is worried. It’s not as if he’s had to handle many fifteen year-olds in his life, not since his card turned, but he’s fairly sure _this_ is not how they should look like.

Then again, she has technically _murdered her entire family_ for all she knows, and the fact that it could very well be self-defense probably doesn’t help living with it, he figures. It makes for an awkward car ride, but Flint has had enough of those in the years to not particularly mind and awkward can be better than a lot of other options.

When they arrive at headquarters, he tells her to follow him upstairs. She holds on to her bag a bit too strongly.

Flint’s already shaky resolve when it comes to actually employing her crumbles even further.

Oh, sure, Double Helix wasn’t that much older than she is —

And hasn’t he told himself that it was for _the greater good_ more than he’d have cares for? Never mind that Matthews had an entire other look in his eyes when he joined.

He’ll see what Turing says, but as useful as her power would be —

He’s not sure he _can_. Not with someone who looks like she has barely thrown away her old favorite teddy bear, which is _entirely_ different from the situation they caught Matthews in back in the day.

Flint thinks of Matthews’s face when he told him he had rather enjoyed carrying out his first assignment.

He’s suddenly glad his stomach hasn’t turned on itself since the fifties and most likely never will.

——

“Well,” Turing tells him a few hours later, “do you want the good news or bad news first?”

“ _I was hoping there would be only good ones_ ,” Flint sighs. “ _Bad news first, please._ ”

“We ran a few tests,” he says. “And checked her background, of course. The bad news would be that her story absolutely checks out, Double Helix also confirmed it, so _someone_ will have to find a way to justify her relatives’s disappearance. I suppose we can house the statues ourselves until we find a way to reverse it.”

“ _I suppose it’s not reversible with our resources_?”

“No,” Turing confirms. “She showed us pictures of the animals their parents sold, and of the _people_ for that matter, and I didn’t have the heart to ask her to do it again. It apparently doesn’t work with plants, though. However, I arranged for us to acquire one of those statues and to have it delivered here, and I did run a few tests. Pure granite. Exquisitely detailed, too. I have the feeling that unless we find someone who can reverse it because it’s _their_ card, there would be no way to do it.”

“ _How many of these statue of hers are around_?” Flint asks.

“Quite a few. Why, should we discreetly try to buy them, too?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Flint agrees. “ _The humans first and foremost. Did she tell you that she figured out her statues weren’t being turned back into human from watching the news_?”

“She did. Oh, of course someone else might figure it out if the buyer tries to sell them to a gallery or anything of the kind.”

“ _Exactly. Can we put someone on it?_ ”

“Of course,” Turing replies. “I will look into it the moment we’re done here.”

“ _And what about the good news, Alan_?”

“Well, she’s otherwise healthy and has no other issues other than _that_ and the fact that I think she needs a few talks with Teitelbaum, at least. Well, more than a few. And possibly friends her age.”

“ _I suppose we could provide at least the psychiatrist_ ,” Flint says dryly.

“Too bad she wasn’t fifteen in ’96, right?”

Flint doesn’t even try to tell him off. He doesn’t have the heart nor the force of will, especially because he knows that Turing is not _wrong_ , as much as Queen and country might have been worth that one sacrifice.

“ _Did she tell you that she wants to work for us_?”

“I should hope you’re _not_ considering it, Flint.” Turing’s voice goes lower, _colder_ , and you could never guess he’s… _technically_ a computer now, for how human it sounds.

“ _No_ ,” he immediately says. “ _Of course not. She’s thinks she’s ready but she’s most definitely not. That is not happening_.”

“Good to hear it,” Turing says, sounding relieved. “I see that we’re not completely beyond decency, yet.” He shakes his head, then moves to sit in front of Flint. “And what do you think we should do with her, then?”

Good question. _Extremely_ good question. “ _Well, we can’t do nothing. If her parents conveniently disappear, she cannot inherit the farm for another three years and from what I gather she would lose it before then._ ”

“So she has no other choice than _us_ ,” Turing finishes for him. “Fair. But we can’t house teenagers _here_. Unless they’re Noel Matthews, I suppose.”

Flint takes that hit, too — Turing has never quite stopped nagging him on it, but Flint won’t begrudge him for that. He doesn’t want anyone to let him forget how low he _did_ stoop, for Queen and country and whatever else.

“ _No_ ,” he agrees. “ _But maybe — do you think that if Seamstress made some clothes for her, she could… block it_?”

“Well, she did say that she didn’t risk touching other people anymore with the whole of her skin rather than just hands. Maybe it could work. Well, it will cost nothing to ring Constance. That wouldn’t solve most issues.”

“ _No, but she could be in between other people without risks_ ,” he answers. “ _That would be a start_.”

He’s also starting to think that she will never find accommodations unless one of _them_ agrees to take her in, supposing that she has no other relatives that could act as a guardian… but that would not work, he fears. She did say that she only had her parents and her uncle.

Flint thinks of Alice and the family they never got to have and feels a pang somewhere around the place his heart used to beat half a century and some ago. He never tried to see if that turned into stone, as well, but given how many fire tears he spilled over it, he thinks not.

But _he_ ’s not the right choice. He could never be — he has to run the entire organization and he’s at Buckingham Palace’s beck and call.

“ _Ring Seamstress_ ,” he whispers. “ _We will deal with the rest later_.”

——

Constance does come by as soon as they do ring her, along with a measurement kit — she takes Kelly’s measures quickly and efficiently, careful to not touch her directly, then nods as she writes them down.

“So,” she says, “let’s see if I understood _exactly_ what it is that you want. She can’t risk having people touching her by mistake because they turn into stone if she does, and she’s never tried touching someone through clothing and viceversa, because they couldn’t be sure of whether her card would work if she used her hands only or not. So you want me to sew a few pieces that would make sure people could touch her while clothed _for sure_?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Flint confirms. “ _Do you think it’s doable_?”

Constance shrugs. “I honestly don’t know,” she says. “For now, the only thing I knew for sure is that my clothes can stop bullets, but I suppose I could think very hard about stopping the wild card instead while sewing it and then we can test it with a cat or something of the kind.”

Flint notices Kerry grimacing, but says nothing.

“ _That sounds agreeable_.”

“Hm.” Constance takes another look at Kerry. “I guess long sleeves would work best. I imagine you prefer trousers over skirts?”

“I — yes,” Kerry nods. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be back in a few days. If it works we can see about making a full wardrobe, I imagine, but we shall see about that.” She leaves just after, and Flint can see that the girl looks pretty much overwhelmed.

He figures that sleeping here until this clothing matter is solved cannot hurt. “ _We do have a few empty rooms_ ,” he says after Constance leaves. “ _Alan, we can find her one to sleep in until Constance has that clothing_.”

“Surely we can,” Turing answers. “After we solve this, we can see about the rest.”

“So I can work for you?” Kerry asks after he leaves, sounding _hopeful_.

Flint’s mouth tastes like ash. “ _We’ll see about that, too. For now, worry about taking some rest_.”

She follows an attendant out not long later and Flint goes back to his office, dropping on the chair, feeling it creak — bloody hell, he thinks he needs it replaced if it’s starting to wear down.

Well, he has _a few days_ to figure this mess out.

——

“So,” Double Helix tells him a few days later, just before Constance is supposed to arrive, “the situation is as follows.”

“ _Let’s hear it_.”

“I tracked down almost all of the animals — they are in the same basement section we have reserved for, well, _the other three_. I have an appointment with the dog’s buyer later tonight, if everything else fails I think Lilith might convince him to relent.”

Flint nods, trying to not feel _too_ bad about that.

“As far as the people go, I have bought back one. Enigma is on to tracking down the other two’s buyers, so I suppose I will give it a go after dealing with the dog.”

“ _I suppose everything is in the same part of the basement_?”

“Indeed. Thankfully it’s not in danger of crashing down, because that’s quite some weight to hold up. However, here’s the report.” He places a carefully put-together folder on Flint’s desk. “If it’s all, I would go get some sleep now. I do have to be rested for tonight.”

“ _Of course. Thank you, excellent job._ ”

“Sir.”

Double Helix leaves the room, shoulders held high. Flint takes the folder and flips through the pictures — indeed, all the granite statues look extremely realistic, down to the details. He stares at what looks like a kitten leaning down its head for a few minutes before slamming it closed — might be that the stone was too similar to his own coloring these days, might be that it’s been a fairly stressful week, but he doesn’t think he can stomach looking at those photographs much longer.

A moment later, the phone rings — he picks it up, hears that Constance just arrived here and says he’ll be down shortly.

He stands up and leaves his office, wondering if he’s tired because he’s feeling his age or for reasons that should be better left alone.

——

Constance shows up with a pair of tailored blue pants and matching jacket, thankfully not too formal, a pair of black gloves and a long-sleeved white undershirt. It’s obviously not her most elaborate work, but Kerry cannot know that, and she thanks Constance as she flees towards one of the bathrooms and changes into the new clothes. They do fit her perfectly, nothing to say on _that_ front.

“ _Should we try it out now_?” Flint asks.

“Of course.” Turing reaches for a cage that was on the nearby table and produces a small rabbit with black fur. It curls inside his palms, against his own gloves.

“Very well,” he says, moving in front of Kerry. “I know you would rather not risk it, but we have to try it out. If it consoles you, it’s highly unlikely it would work.”

“I understand,” she says. “And I guess we have to see if it works or not. It’s fine.” She’s speaking so flatly, Flint really does _not_ like it.

Turing lets the rabbit fall down in her hands. The gloves apparently _do_ work, because he doesn’t turn into stone. Kerry swallows openly, her throat working up and down way too fast for Flint to not assume she’s not extremely agitated, and lets the rabbit walk up along her elbow as she sits down at the table. It does, and then moves up to her shoulder.

It remains black and soft and warm rather than turning into granite, and Turing puts it back in the cage before it reaches her neck — Kerry’s visibly relieved now, and Flint supposes it would just be cruelty to test if it would still work should the rabbit come into contact with her face.

“Very well,” Turing says. “I suppose we should make a last trial.” He lifts another small transparent cage and a butterfly perches on his finger.

Good idea, Flint decides. Certainly a butterfly, should it turn to stone, wouldn’t cause too much distress.

Kerry holds her breath as it touches her cheek.

It flies away a moment later.

“Interesting,” Turing says. “Your card does apparently _not_ work if it’s your face they come into contact with. Well, that’s good news for everyone. Constance, do you think you could make her a few other pieces of clothing?”

“Of course,” she says. “You do pay my rent, Enigma. If that’s all, I will be back in a fortnight or so.”

“ _Take your time_ ,” Flint tells her. “ _Your work is always excellent_.”

“Flatterer,” she winks, and then takes back her bag and leaves the room.

Very well. Now he has to face _the_ issue, as in, how to break down to the girl that there is no way they can let her _join the organization_.

“I was wondering,” Turing says before he can speak.

“ _What exactly_?”

“Kerry, you said you thought Captain Flint over there might be immune because he’s _already_ stone?”

“Could be,” she says. “But I dunno if the Captain’s willin’ to take the risk. I know I wouldn’t.”

Before Flint can take the out and say that he would if he didn’t have _this_ job and couldn’t risk turning into stone more than he is already, Turing shakes his head. “I don’t think we should even ask him. Also because — well, Captain Flint’s _body_ is stone, but I’m not so sure his _heart_ and such are. That might be pushing it.” He stops. “ _However_ , I think _I_ might be immune.”

“You… might?” Kerry asks, sounding _hopeful_. Turing shrugs minutely and Flint immediately understand what he’s fishing at.

“I am made of _circuits_ , after all,” he muses. “And the outside is metal. You said you used your uncle’s computer, but it didn’t turn to stone now, did it?”

“No,” she confirms. “But —”

“I think I might want to test this out,” Turing says, and Flint _doesn’t_ like where this is going.

“ _Alan_ ,” he says, “ _are you really sure about this?_ ”

“I am reasonably sure, yes,” Turing says. “And don’t worry, I _know_ I’m an asset to the organization, but science cannot advance without putting oneself on the line for once, right?”

“ _And what if_ —”

“Let’s go in the next room for a moment, shall we? Sorry, it’s only classified information.”

“Of — of course,” Kerry stammers as Flint follows Turing out of the room.

“ _Alan, what are you even thinking of_?”

“Flint, maybe a bit of a risk is something all of us need once in their lives and I haven’t certainly done anything like that since I turned my card. Besides, again, do you think that there isn’t a backup of everything in here,” he says, tapping the side of his head, “inside _five_ of my personal computers in my lab, with instructions for Jillian in case they need to be accessed? I am in there, too,” he goes on. “If I turn into granite, you can just follow the instructions and I’ll talk to you from… well, the machine, until you can find some other ace who can undo what she does. I _did_ take precautions.”

Flint can hear that he won’t be swayed, and — all right. That’s enough of a backup plan, after all.

“ _Very well_ ,” Flint tells him. “ _Do it. I certainly cannot stop you now, can I_?”

“Oh, it’s so sweet of you to quote the songs I like, Flint. No, you cannot. But I don’t think you will need to access any backup.”

He goes back inside the room, sits in front of Kerry, holds out a hand. “Try it,” he says.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t wanna —”

“There are backup plans if I’m wrong. Do go ahead.”

Flint would have held his breath, had he looked like he did before his card turned, when Kerry’s fingers touch Turing’s wrist.

For a moment, he expects him to turn to stone.

_Nothing_ happens, instead.

“Oh,” Kerry says, her tone betraying that she feels _quite_ overjoyed at having found someone who she _cannot_ turn into granite.

“I _did_ say it most likely would work,” Turing muses, turning his hand so that it’s holding her wrist back. She looks down at the table, obviously trying to not break down in tears.

If anything would have convinced Flint that he couldn’t in good conscience take her up on her offer, _this_ would have sealed it.

“I think,” Turing says a moment later, “that I need to talk to you, Flint. Will you be all right here?”

“I will,” she says, nodding and wiping at her eyes.

Flint heads back for his office, Turing following him.

He thinks he _knows_ what he might want to ask him.

And if Flint’s right, he also thinks he won’t say no.

——

“I think I should just take her in,” Turing says the moment he closes the door.

_Well,_ Flint thinks, _that was just what I had imagined you would ask_.

“ _Are you sure_?” He asks. “ _I mean, you were at her evaluation, I suppose._ ”

“Flint, I’m the best choice. I live _here_ , which means that if suddenly a Pygmalion shows up in our ranks he’d be right next door. I can touch her and she can touch me, which would mean that there would be no risk of her accidentally turning whoever she lives with into stone. And I have enough leeway here that I can move a few strings and find a way to send her to school or the likes.”

Flint nods. “ _And let me guess, you would have some three years to convince her that working for us and using that ace name for real is not what she should strive for_?”

Turing’s metallic mouth quirks upwards, just slightly. “You know me too well, Flint. So maybe I would try that. Can you blame me for it?”

Flint stares up at him, knowing his own eyes must be flaming red. “ _No_ ,” he finally says. “ _I couldn’t. And I wouldn’t. If you are sure and if she agrees, it can be arranged. But — is it just for practical reasons, Alan? Because I can hear different_.”

Turing shrugs, stops smiling, then moves his elbows on Flint’s desk. “It might not be,” he said. “But let me ask you, Flint. Do you remember how the world was for people like _me_ , before the card turned? How _this country_ was?”

Flint does. Bloody hell, you could be _fired_ for being queer up until the early nineties. Sure, it never was a policy enforced at the Order of the Silver Helix for obvious reasons, but _still_.

“ _I do_.”

“Well, maybe then you can see why I wouldn’t think that making sure a fifteen-year old doesn’t make rather horrible choices before they come of age is such a hardship, Flint. Especially when I’m most likely only here because my card turned, otherwise… I don’t know what would have happened if anyone found out.”

Flint can see that, indeed. Honestly, he hadn’t even thought it was anything Turing would be missing or wanting, but put it like this, he can see what he means.

He nods. “ _That can be arranged. If you would rather do the necessary calls I’ll leave it up to you, otherwise I can handle it._ ”

“Would you be so nice?”

“ _I think I owe you a few favors, Alan_.”

“Why, thank you. Then — I will be in the next room over.”

Flint nods, waits for him to leave and takes a deep breath before raising the phone again.

He makes his calls, he’s assured that papers will be ready in a few days, asks to be contacted again when they are, thanks everyone he’s contacted and closes the phone. Then he drags himself to his feet — bloody hell, he’s _tired_ — and gets out of his office, wondering if he could take the rest of the day off before he comes back in the morning waiting for Matthews’s report.

He glances through the glass wall separating the hallway from the room they were in before — Kerry and Turing are sitting in front of each other, she’s staring at him with wary, hopeful eyes and he has a hand on her shoulder. She’s slightly leaning into it.

Flint really, _really_ hopes he won’t find her in front of his desk asking for a job three years from now, but something tells him it’s not likely, and honestly?

He’s nowhere near feeling bad or reproachful about it.

There’s only so much that _for Queen and country_ can justify, after all.

 

End.


End file.
